


Shipwreck

by fawatson



Category: The Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nikeratos is shipwrecked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shipwreck

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted to:** maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal on 31/10/2011  
>  **Originally Written for:** Spooky Challenge 2011  
>  **Prompt:** The unquiet dark  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit from them.  
>  **Author’s Note:** (a) This story is set close to the beginning of chapter 8; (b) in Ancient Greek mythology Aeolus controlled the wind. He is said to have given Odysseus a bag containing the four winds on his journey back from the Trojan War; (c) The last sentence (in italics) is a direct quotation from Renault’s novel.

I was effusively welcomed onto the ship. The captain himself greeted me and carried my bag down to the cabin Dion had reserved for me. My guess is there is nothing like having someone in high places make the arrangements for a voyage to ensure good service, not that Dion himself would have organised my trip. No doubt it was one of his scribes who sent the letter in his name. I was surprised the captain took time from his busy schedule for such personal service; that final hour before cast-off would be the busiest point of his day, I should think. But he spoke pleasantly, and said he had heard good things about my oration at Dionysios’ funeral, and knew I had honoured the gods in my work. He said he had wanted to meet me. His was a well-run ship, nicely appointed, and with sailors bustling round in a smoothly orchestrated pattern which meant we cast off almost as soon as I had settled in. I felt pleased with Dion’s choice of ship as we sailed from that harbour, sun shining, with nary a cloud in the sky. 

By afternoon I was sick as a dog from the pitching and tossing of that benighted ship as it rolled in the high waves. A brisk breeze had sprung up almost as soon as we had cleared the point, which had steadily worsened into positive gale-force wind as the day wore on. My previous voyage had not prepared me for how truly _awful_ it can be on a ship in bad weather. When my bucket was full (I could not have _believed_ how bad seasickness could be before), I went up on deck to sit wretched by the stern, periodically stumbling to the side to hang over. The wind freshened my face and made me feel a little better. I prayed loud and hard to Apollo as I watched the sailors struggle with sails and oars. I had put the mask inside my shirt and fancied I could feel it glowing warm against my skin. Just a fancy, I am sure, but that too made me feel better. Nonetheless, in between bouts of sickness, I kept a coin handy to pay the ferryman, sure this day would be my last. 

A huge gust of wind crashed over me as I crouched there, hanging on to a line for dear life. The burly man at the tiller was blown overboard, and the little swarthy seaman beside me screamed in terror. 

"That’s both gone!" he cried out. "Captain and first mate alike! No hope for it now...."

I said to him, astounded, "surely not." 

That was the captain I could see up ahead, portside, his long locks of white hair alive in the wind, his face fierce in concentration as he turned to the sails, and...blew. And so I realised. 

To this day I have no idea what that unseen captain must have done to anger Aeolus so. Nor do I want to know. Such knowledge is for the gods, not a mere mortal like me. I try not to speak of that shipwreck, if I can help it. But _I have turned down good engagements, time and again, because it meant a crossing in bad season._


End file.
